[Inara has found herself a quiet place on the Plane and set up what looks like a small shrine, incense burning in holders while the Companion prays. she sits that way for what seems forever, quietly reciting mantras and praying for those who have died -- and killed. even when she finishes, though, she remains kneeling, expression drawn]

Is it ever going to end?

[Being brought back to life without regenerating is a bit disconcerting, for a Time Lord. Coupled with the hazy, drugged feeling he has, Narvin has elected to try and find a nice, comfortable desk in the library to sit at.]

[He chooses a quiet floor, setting his (untouched) cup of tea down on the table and sliding into the chair. There's a low ache in his head, and, though he doesn't yet realise it, the Twins have made a few... changes.]

Damn.

[Anyone who can sense magic may notice that Narvin (who once held about the same amount of magical ability as a brick), now has a minor bit of magical power running through his veins. He won't be summoning any demons soon, but it's enough to make his nicely logical life a bit more interesting.]

[The Doctor, having been off the Plane for the past week plus, has absolutely no idea what's been going on in her absence. So she'll hopefully be forgiven for not being present at certain close friends' and family's Deathmatches.

She looks like she's had an interesting few days herself. The lovely black suit she's wearing, for example, is looking undeniably damp and spent, and when she wanders onto the plane she's holding a dashing hat that's suffered the same treatment and making sad faces at it. And then she sets it on her head.]

Next time, I think I may listen to Jo and find us a nice spa to visit. It can't hurt to rest for a few days, after all. [Ow. She winces and stretches out her back, then starts rubbing the back of her neck. Ahhhh she has dungeon!neck.] It certainly wouldn't hurt me any, at least.

[Go on, people. Tell her what she's been missing.]